Stand by Me
by QuietBlondeOne
Summary: AU to my fic The Mind of Ysgramor. Never in his life had Vilkas assumed that he'd be adding babysitter to his list of abilities. Unbeknownst to him, things weren't quite so easy sailing for the one he was to be assigned to either. F!OC/Vilkas. Rated T for language and violence, will most likely switch to M later on.
1. Prologue

_AN: Hey everybody! I know what you're thinking…oh great why is this chick coming back with ANOTHER story about Vilkas when she started a story last year and hasn't even gotten around to it…well, I just love that dude so much that I decided I wanted to try something a bit different. This is going to be an AU of my fic The Mind of Ysgramor, meaning Adelia, my dragonborn from that story will be here as well. This is kinda gonna give you a glimpse into her backstory and will stray away from Skyrim's plot entirely (since it kinda gets repetitive, honestly) and in this fic, Adelia won't be dragonborn for I think obvious reasons. I wanted to do her some justice since you can't really read how she's feeling in the other story since it's all in Vilkas' perspective, and do so without repeating the other story. This brainchild developed in my head over the past few weeks so I'm gonna give it a shot. I highly guarantee this is gonna be more mature than TMoY, in fact, I'm pretty positive it's going to be more mature. Also since I'll have more freedom story-wise I think you guys are probably gonna end up enjoying this more than the other. I already kinda am xD Anyway, as always I hope you enjoy. _

_Oh yes, just as a side note, the ages of these two nimrods will be younger than their TMoY counterparts, about seven years younger actually. (Trivia! Vilkas and Adelia are nine years apart! Lol)_

* * *

**Stand by Me **

**Prologue: **

"You want me to do WHAT?" Vilkas shouted at his Harbinger in fury, fists flying up into the air and flailing as his temper, mixed with his beast blood, breached the boiling point.

Kodlak let out a deep sigh and held his hands up, signaling to the young man to take it easy. "Calm down, lad. I knew you'd be upset about this, but I need you to hear me out before you go thrashing through Jorrvaskr in a fit of anger."

The younger man breathed out a taunting laugh, a single "ha" as he began pacing the stone floor of the Harbinger's study. He couldn't believe the old man. To set him up with something of this sort was just plain insulting. He was a Companion! A person of great respect who took pride in the jobs they received throughout Skyrim and did to their own accord. He had thought that perhaps Kodlak had called him in here to compliment him on what a fine job he had done clearing the mountainside near Falkreath of trolls with his twin, Farkas, but instead the Harbinger had given him a proposition, one he couldn't refuse no matter what he said in excuse. For instead of calling him in for anything having to do with the guild or contracts, Kodlak had explained to him that a nobleman in Cyrodiil, at the Imperial City, of all places; was hiring the Companions to send one of their own to the foreign country in order to serve as a personal guard for one of his children. And of all the members in the guild, Kodlak had decided that Vilkas would suit the job perfectly, and wouldn't hear any rebuttal from him.

"Hear you out, eh? What exactly did you think I'd find agreeable in this…this…arrangement which requires me to just drop everything and leave the damn country? And for what, a _bodyguard _position? Sometimes I think you bite off more than you can chew, old man. Who the hell sent you this request to begin with? They must have a horses' ass for a brain if they think the Companions are just going to cater to needs in countries other than Skyrim!"

The Harbinger groaned amidst Vilkas rambling on, pinching the bridge of nose. In order to silence the young man, he suddenly slammed his fist harshly down on the table where he sat, rattling the dishes and tankards resting on the surface in the process. Immediately Vilkas shut his mouth, knowing he himself had crossed the line. Although Kodlak was sentimental, it didn't mean he would let anyone run their mouth when he had had enough. The old man then stood and crossed his arms, glaring at the younger Companion with his aging eyes, a silent order for the boy to hold his tongue.

"Watch how you speak to me, Vilkas. I may not be in charge of you, but you should know better than to argue with your elders. Now, if you'd kindly let me explain _why_ I chose you over everyone else, you will see why it is necessary that you go through with this." He once more took his seat at the table, picking up the objects on the surface that had fallen over and setting them down properly.

"Vilkas, let me ask you, when you go out on contracts with a shield-sibling at your side, what do you always make sure to do?"

Vilkas looked upward in thought for a moment and breathed out slowly.

"Make sure that I have my shield-siblings' back, of course."

Kodlak nodded in agreement. "Now, what does Farkas do in the same situation?"

"He always goes in for the kill, regardless if his shield-sibling is handling their own or not."

"And Aela?"

Vilkas shrugged. "Does her own thing most of the time."

"Exactly. You see now why I need you to do this? You are young and agile, suitable to protect any obstacle that comes this person's way. You are also reliable, and tactful, and know when to jump into action while still looking out for others. I have also chosen you, because I believe you will agree to this once I tell you the benefit of it all."

The younger man cocked a brow at Kodlak's remark. "Which is…?" he pressed.

"The nobleman who hired us has offered a lump sum of fifty-thousand gold for our services. I don't know about you, but I would like to see that amount be put to good use around here, and I'm sure you wouldn't mind getting a major cut of it."

Vilkas swallowed roughly. "F-fifty-thousand?" he stuttered out hoarsely. "How much of a cut are we talking?"

"I will give you fifteen of it. However, you must take this job seriously and do it to the best of your abilities. That means: no fits of rage, no shouting in their faces when you become impatient, and absolutely, under any circumstances, _no_ transformations," Kodlak strained seriously.

"Of course," Vilkas agreed. He let out a deep sigh and rolled his shoulders back. "So, when do I leave?"

Immediately, Kodlak's wrinkled face brightened a degree. "I will send out a letter of response telling him we have agreed to his request. Then as soon as we get an answer, you'll be on your way."

The younger man moved over to the map sitting on the desk not too far away from him and began examining it. "How long will I be doing this, exactly?" he asked with a hint of distaste.

Kodlak shrugged. "The letter didn't specify. But I would assume anywhere from a few months to a couple years, it just depends."

Vilkas just grunted in reply. Never in his life had he assumed that he'd be adding _babysitter_ to his list of abilities.

Unbeknownst to him, things weren't quite so easy sailing for the one he was to be assigned to either.

* * *

**Well that was the prologue! Sound interesting? It's gonna get better from here, promise. This was just a snippet of what's to come! As always, if you enjoyed even just this teeny bit, Follow/Fave/Review! I'll be sure to update soon! (School's out so I caaaan!)  
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	2. Dragged In

_AN: I'm very pleased with the response from this idea and the prologue! Thanks so much to all that followed, favorited, and reviewed! As I said, we're just getting started, so hold tight, and enjoy!_

* * *

**Stand by Me **

**Chapter One****: Dragged In**

"Mother, are you serious?" Adelia groaned as she flopped backward on her bed roughly. The sun hadn't even been up for more than an hour and already the young woman wanted to crawl back under the covers and ignore the world for the rest of the day. "I really don't want to have to endure the, I assume, endearing company of His Lordship," she muttered, bringing a hand over her face.

"Oh Adelia, quit being so dramatic," her mother replied, rolling her eyes. "You've known for weeks that Lord Breturnis was coming to visit, and we need to get the house prepared." Walking over to the curtains, she drew them open, allowing the morning's sunlight to spill in throughout the room. Adelia hissed and ducked under the covers, pulling a pillow over her head as well.

"Adelia, enough. Now get up and get dressed, and be downstairs for breakfast in fifteen minutes. Else I'll send for the maids and they'll bring you down themselves."

The young woman peeked out from beneath the pillow, glowering at her mother with a sneer. "Of course, prison-keeper."

Her mother just lowered her gaze, a silent order to the blonde to not test her patience. After she exited the room, Adelia sat up in the bed with an exasperated sigh, slapping a hand to her forehead. "Why does it have to be me that has to be offered to this Breturnis fellow? Why can't they find some other woman to marry him off to?"

Although it hadn't been directly stated, she knew fully well that the only reason the man was visiting was for the possibility that he would find her pleasing and ask for her hand. Just like the two others that had come months prior when she had turned eighteen. Thankfully though, they saw her as nothing but a nuisance, and in turn had left early from their span of visitation. Hopefully the case would be the same for whoever her parents had picked out this time, she would just have to be sure to display her _best_ manners to their guest.

Standing up from the bed, she stretched for a moment before grabbing the dress that her mother had lain out for her and examining it. Why had she picked this one out if they were just preparing the house today?

"Well at least it's not some foo-foo gown," she muttered, running a hand over the material. Undressing out of her nightclothes, she pulled the dress on, zipping it up in the appropriate places. Moving over to the mirror in the room, she studied herself for a moment, sighing after a while.

"Seems as though these men just want a pretty face in a pretty gown with wide hips," she grumbled. After combing her hands through her hair a bit to loosen the tangles, she left the room, taking as much time as she could to walk down the stairs and into the dining room.

Once she had entered the elaborate space, filled with paintings of her ancestors and dishes of all kinds, everyone present glanced up from their plates and directly at her. This included her mother, one of her brothers, and of course, her father, sitting at the head of the large table.

"Ah, Adelia, so good of you to join us this morning," he said in a sarcastic manner, gesturing to her specific seat.

The blonde huffed, making her way over to the spot and sitting down forcibly. "Apologies, father, but it would seem that I had the troubles of impending doom plaguing me last night," she said as she grabbed a roll from a bowl in front of her and bit into it.

"Impending doom, hm? This wouldn't have to have anything to do with Lord Breturnis' visit, would it?" he asked, knowing full-well what her cryptic statement had meant.

She shrugged, taking a sip from her goblet. "I suppose it could. I mean what else is a woman supposed to think when her family tries to sell her off to some man they barely know?"

"Adelia!" her mother hissed from across the table.

"It's alright, Leonla," her father said. "Our daughter here can have all of the opinions she'd like on the matter, but she will have to come to accept what is necessary eventually."

"Why can't you just marry off one of them?" Adelia asked loudly whilst pointing to her brother. "Last I checked they were capable of courting some other nobles' offspring!"

"You know very well why they can't, Adelia," her father said sternly.

Adelia rolled her eyes and slouched in her seat with a pout. "Right, because they couldn't find time to get married in between either joining the war or studying politics," she grumbled.

"Hey, don't bring me into this," her brother, Adoran, said in defense. It had seemed like he was the only sibling ever present in the house anymore, with her two eldest brothers, Tristane and Klaus, off being generals in the war in Skyrim or something of the like. Adoran was currently studying to become some seat in the Council, the youngest to ever do so at twenty-one years of age. Whether he decided to pursue the position in sake of impressing their father, who also held a high placement within the White-Gold Tower, or just for his own benefit, Adelia could never figure out.

As she was poking at a piece of meat on her plate, her father suddenly spoke up again, clearing his throat first to get her attention.

"Adelia, there's something else aside from the lord's visit that you should be prepared for, this morning, in fact, if what the letter I received stands true."

Internally groaning at the constant surprises being thrown her way, she answered sweetly, "And what would that be, exactly, father?"

"I have taken it upon myself to hire you a personal guard. One that will ensure you won't try anything funny like escaping through your window at night when the lord comes into our household."

The blonde stopped breathing, her fury rising at a dangerous degree in an instant. Subconsciously, her fist gripped around her fork, turning her knuckles purple. "A guard!? Father, have you gone mad? I don't need a babysitter following me around and telling me what to do! I'm eighteen years old for Dibella's sake!" she yelled.

"Exactly why you do need one," the man responded. "You've become rebellious in your efforts to flee from these arrangements, and frankly I'm sick of it. If I could trust you to stay put and not cause mischief while we have these guests, I wouldn't have to go to this measure. But you've left me no choice."

"This isn't fair!" Adelia shouted in protest as she stood from her seat. "I won't stand for being cooped up like a cow in preparation for breeding any longer!"

"If that's how you believe we treat you, then fine. I can't change your way of thinking. I'm just looking out for your best interest," her father stated.

"Is my best interest that I be wedded to a man I will never love and only bear children for? Or to have some stranger telling me what I can and can't do?" she asked angrily.

"Enough, Adelia!" her mother shouted, causing the girl to cower back down into her seat slowly. Her mother hardly ever raised her voice, and when she did, it meant serious business.

"Normally I wouldn't protest to your behavior, Adelia, seeing as you act this way no matter what we do for you. But this is a chance that you should at least consider taking, in both having someone ask for your hand and having someone look out for you and your actions. Perhaps it will teach you patience, which you seem to be entirely deprived of."

Adelia just crossed her arms, her eyes gluing to her plate as she tried to block out her mother's words of wisdom.

"My lord," one of the servants called out as he came into the room suddenly, "it would seem that the Companion has arrived outside just now."

_Companion?_ Adelia thought sourly.

The man's face erupted into a grin, before he stood and gestured for the other members at the table to stand as well. "Good. Come Adelia, you should get acquainted with him before his service to you begins."

"Of course," the young woman spat.

"And behave for gods' sakes," her father then said demandingly.

Adelia just rolled her eyes as she followed her family through the halls to the pair of front doors, where one of the servants was standing, ready to open them to their guest.

"You should be happy, my daughter. He came highly recommended from Skyrim, our homeland," her mother whispered to her.

The blonde sighed and faced forward, still not anticipating this at all.

* * *

Vilkas exhaled loudly as he stared out of the carriage's window and toward the oncoming view of the Imperial City's walls. He had been traveling for nearly two weeks now, and in all honesty couldn't wait to arrive at the intended destination, if only to be relieved of continuously sitting down and being thrown into the air every time the wheels hit a bump in the winding road.

To his surprise, instead of turning off the road toward the brick pathway leading to the city's entrance, the driver continued along the same path they had been on for the last two hours. Hadn't Kodlak stated that the family lived in the Imperial City?

Eventually his concerns were answered when, after another couple miles, the sight of an extravagant estate came into view, complete with a large stable a ways to the right, and a fountain directly in the center of the road curving around the manor's front.

"Gods, these people must be loaded," the man muttered to himself as they pulled up to the front doors of the house. Once it came to a complete halt, Vilkas exited the carriage and stared up at the exterior of the large manor in a state of wonder. He had already assumed that the family he'd been sent to serve would have some elaborate structure of a housing facility, but hadn't assumed that it wouldn't even be within the city, rather, a few miles outside the walls, on its own plot of land.

"Well, this is it," the driver who had brought him here said as he unloaded the trunk of Vilkas' things from the back of the cart.

"Yes, I suppose," Vilkas replied, feeling out of place in the new country already. Although he had cleaned up considerably, no longer wearing his war paint and his wolf armor replaced with a pair of trousers and a tunic, he knew he wouldn't fit in this place at all, the blood of a Nord - and werewolf for that matter - outshining that of a well-endowed citizen. Just the mere look of this house was intimidating enough to make the beast within growl in uncertainty.

"I should warn you, Companion, that daughter of theirs is a handful. She's driven off nearly every person who has come this way with her antics," the driver then said.

Daughter? He hadn't been told he'd be looking out for a daughter. If it was a little girl, then he could only assume she'd be a handful.

_Great, I'm even more of a babysitter than I had imagined_, he thought bitterly.

"I suppose I'll just deal with it accordingly," Vilkas sighed in reply.

"Good luck to you then, friend," the driver then said as he climbed back into his seat and took the reigns before driving off toward the stables.

Vilkas looked forward, trunk at his side, waiting for the doors to open to him, or something. He wasn't going to just barge in, such wasn't the way things worked around here. After a minute or so the doors flew open, and a servant appeared in the doorway. Holding his hand toward the inside, he looked at Vilkas and said, "You may now proceed inside, sir."

Sir. The word had a bad taste, even if it was in correct use in this case. Never in his life had Vilkas been referred to as such, the words "Companion" or "mercenary" suiting him much better. Or even his name. Just his name would suffice.

Taking a breath, he grabbed the trunk at his side and hoisted it into his arms, shifting it so it could be held underneath one. Walking as casually as he could, he went inside the house, automatically looking around at the interior once he had crossed the threshold. Paintings adorned every wall, with meaningless trinkets lining the corners and shelves placed in selective spots. A large staircase sat at his right, leading up to a hallway with many more rooms, where he guessed the family slept, and where he'd be staying.

Absentmindedly his nose began to twitch as the distinct smell of cooking and perfume met his nostrils, and he took a short whiff, part of it pleasing and the other part wanting to make him hack.

"Ah, well if it isn't our Companion," a stern yet surprisingly subtle voice said from directly in front of him. He looked forward at who it was that spoke, and saw what he could only presume to be the family to which he was to be in service of. The one who had spoken, most likely the father, was as Nord as they could come, with blonde hair, green eyes, and a muscular build beneath the odd outfit he wore. This surprised Vilkas, he had thought he'd be sent to some Imperial household, as most of Cyrodiil's nobles were of that particular descent.

"He certainly looks fierce," the woman beside him whispered. From the way they stood next to each other, Vilkas figured that this was the man's wife, and oddly enough she seemed to be of Nordic heritage as well. But judging by her brown hair, light olive skin, and slightly shorter frame, there was most likely some Imperial mixed into her genes.

"Well, isn't that a good thing?" the man replied, then walked forward and held his hand out to Vilkas. "Greetings to you so far from home, lad. I am Lord Rokvir Aksarben."

Vilkas took the man's hand and offered a firm shake. "Vilkas," he said in reply, "of the Companions."

Rokvir smiled and released his hand, before turning and gesturing to the other people present. "Why don't you all introduce yourselves to our guest?"

The wife of the lord came forward then, offering her hand, which Vilkas took rather awkwardly. The woman bowed in a curtsey to him. "I am Lady Leonla Aksarben," she said.

"A pleasure to meet you," Vilkas replied.

"The pleasure's all mine," Leonla smiled with a nod.

Next, an ashy-blonde-haired man, possibly a few years younger than Vilkas walked toward them and held out his hand, and once again Vilkas took it and shook it. "I am Adoran Aksarben, no formal title yet, I'm afraid," he said with a laugh. "It's a pleasure to meet the person responsible for my little sister."

_His_ sister? No, that couldn't be possible. This man had to be at least twenty summers. Wasn't he sent to look after a child? That's what the letter implied, that's what the driver implied…

"Now, I'd like to introduce you to my youngest, our daughter, who you will be looking after," Rokvir said, turning to look back to where they had all originally been standing. Vilkas watched in humor as the man's face suddenly went red when he realized that the person he was looking for was no longer there, or anywhere in the room, for that matter.

"Where in Oblivion did she go!?" he yelled suddenly, startling the Companion.

"Must've slipped out of here while we were speaking," Adoran said with a sigh.

"She's more than likely out in the garden," Leonla offered, holding onto her husband's arm to calm him down. "I apologize, Vilkas, she tends to do this when we have company," she then said.

"That's…alright, I suppose," he responded. Great, she was a runner, and if there was one thing Vilkas hated when catching escaped convicts for the Companions, it was when they ran.

"I'll go get her," Adoran said as he made his way toward a hallway to their left. Meanwhile, Leonla was still attempting to calm down Rokvir, who looked as if the vein bulging in his forehead were about to burst any second.

Minutes later, the sounds of Adoran scolding someone could be heard from down the hall, and then he was back in the room, dragging a wheat-haired girl behind him by the arm and standing her in place in front of Vilkas. Vilkas looked down at the girl with a curious expression, as her hair was completely covering her eyes.

"Honestly, Adelia," Leonla groaned as she moved away from Rokvir and brushed the girl's hair away from her face, allowing Vilkas to get a good look at her. He almost gasped at what he saw, for this wasn't a little girl in the slightest, though her height suggested otherwise. The young woman staring up at him with a grim expression held eyes as bright and green as a field of hills, with patches of freckles covering her pink nose and cheeks. Her wavy blonde hair fell just below her shoulders, offering him an excuse to examine what she was wearing, a modest dress that displayed her figure without overdoing it.

"Vilkas, this is Lady Adelia Aksarben, our daughter, and the person you will be looking after," Rokvir said, his voice still tight in annoyance.

Groaning, Adelia offered her hand, though in reality it was more like she had thrown it into the space between them. He took it carefully and bent down to gently peck it, causing the young woman to cringe in response.

"A pleasure to meet you, M'lady," he said, still holding her hand.

With a sour expression she shook her hand free of his grasp and turned around, crossing her arms.

"For gods' sakes, Adelia," he heard Leonla mutter in an exasperated voice.

"Now Vilkas, I know that you're aware we hired you on the account of looking after Adelia, but I should specify the reason we have gone so far as to hire a Companion from Skyrim," Rokvir explained. "My family, you may all go back into the dining room and finish breakfast. I will discuss everything with Vilkas in my study."

As if on cue, the other members of the family filed into a specific room down the hallway, with Adelia following last. Rokvir turned then to the servant standing by the front doors and said, "Gregor, why don't you take Vilkas' things up to his room? It'd be much appreciated." The servant bowed his head and came toward the Companion, holding out his arms expectedly, and Vilkas carefully placed the trunk into his hands. Gregor faltered a bit at the weight, but stood appropriately after a second and then proceeded to walk toward the staircase.

Rokvir began to head toward a door directly to the back of the entryway, to which Vilkas closely followed. Before he entered the room however, he turned to glance back toward the dining room's entrance, where sure enough, Adelia was peeking around the doorway and glaring at him. He just cocked a brow at her and turned forward again, entering the study and closing the door behind him.

Once inside, Rokvir moved over to his desk, taking his seat and holding his hand out toward another chair in front of him. Vilkas came forward then and sat down, examining the various tapestries and taxidermy which decorated the workspace all the while.

"You've come a long way from Skyrim, Vilkas," the lord began, taking a pipe off the surface of the desk and lighting it. After a few initial puffs, he continued, "I could see the confusion on your face when you saw my daughter, I can only assume you have some questions."

"Not questions necessarily, my lord," Vilkas hesitated, "Just…minor clarifications. My Harbinger had implied that I'd be looking after a child, and seeing your daughter, I mean, Her Ladyship, I was just a bit…unaware, I suppose."

Rokvir just laughed, taking a few more puffs of his pipe. "I can now see why you'd be startled. No matter. No, my four children are all full-grown, with my eldest, Tristane, at thirty years and Adelia my youngest at eighteen. This is where the problem comes into play, though. You are aware that as nobles, certain things are required of me and my family, yes? Certain…promises, and expectations?" the lord asked.

"I can only assume so, my lord," the man replied, not really having been aware at all.

Rokvir nodded. "Adelia, as the only daughter of the household, has responsibilities of her own which need to be fulfilled in the coming days, else it will just cause bigger problems for everyone. My two eldest sons are off fighting in the war in Skyrim, although their current whereabouts are unknown at this time, and I only fear for the worst. Adoran is training to fill my place in the Council so that if I am to pass, there will be a spot secured for my family to continue on in our influence among the other leaders of this broken Empire. There has been talk of him being moved to High Rock, however. Apparently their representatives are numbered, and not in the best condition. They need a fresh young mind to help balance their issues."

"So you're saying Her Ladyship is the only heir to this estate," Vilkas clarified.

"Precisely," Rokvir affirmed. "And I don't know if you know the rules of property around here, but a woman cannot inherit land or that of which is upon it nor around it. Therefore, I need Adelia to marry a responsible nobleman who can continue to take care of this place once I am gone. However…that is easier said than done."

"Pardon my forwardness, my lord, but your carriage driver said that she has…a way with guests," Vilkas said carefully.

The lord sighed and nodded. "Yes, she does, unfortunately. So far I have had two very prominent men come to this estate from other parts of Cyrodiil to seek out her hand in possible courtship and she has managed to run both of them off with her behavior. I have another gentleman, Lord Breturnis of Cheydinhal visiting in the next couple days, and I want her to act as she should and accept his proposal should he find her suitable. This is where you come in, Vilkas. I want you to watch her like a hawk, make sure she doesn't plan anything mischievous and manages to stay within the estate's bounds. We'd do so ourselves, but I'm so busy with work and my wife so busy with helping Adoran in his studies that neither of us can keep an eye on her, no matter how hard we try."

"I understand, my lord," Vilkas agreed. "I will be sure to keep her in order, should she try anything."

"Excellent," Rokvir grinned, pipe sticking out between his teeth. "I'm putting my faith in you, Companion. I know it seems harsh to make the girl be arranged into marriage, but it is necessary. I'm sure you can understand."

"Of course, my lord," the younger man responded.

Nodding, Rokvir then stood, gesturing to Vilkas to do the same. "Very good. I can assume that you are hungry, Companion. Why don't you join me and my family for the remainder of breakfast? Then we will show you to your room, where you may unload your things."

"That would be much appreciated," Vilkas said in gratitude.

* * *

After a semi-awkward breakfast that could be summed up in its' entirety as the young heiress glaring daggers into Vilkas' field of vision from across the table, he went to his room, where surprisingly most of his things had already been put away for him. Taking a deep breath he began to look around, his quarters quite cozy and yet brimming with that significant wealthy flair. Never had he seen a more comfortable-looking bed, and the furniture that surrounded the confinements of the space all had to be crafted of the best polished wood in all of Tamriel. A large balcony window stood at the far end of the room, with large ornate curtains pulled to the sides, sewn of deep maroon velvet. Even the ceiling was extravagant in its nature, with carvings of specific Aedra placed along the tiles. The vicinity was definitely pleasing to look at, but still couldn't quite compare to the familiar hay bed and stone walls of his room back in Jorrvaskr.

Rokvir had offered him some time to himself so he could rest up from the long journey, so he decided to spend it reading, as he usually did when he had space in his schedule. Interestingly enough, a bookshelf with quite the impressive selection was located next to his wardrobe, and so after examining the titles and selecting one, he made his way over to the reading chair sitting next to the window and sat down. After getting comfortable in the cushiony seat, a little too plushy for his taste, he peeled the book open and began reading silently.

"I hope you know your efforts are in vain," a feminine voice said from behind him suddenly. He turned in the seat to see who it was that had butted in on his privacy, and sure enough, it was Adelia, standing in the doorway with crossed arms and a scrunched expression.

Vilkas stood, shifting his clothing from sitting and walked toward her. "Forgive me, M'lady, was there something you needed?" he asked, trying to keep his patience in check.

"You heard what I said," she replied, her lip turning up in a sneer. "My father may have hired you to watch over me like some sheepdog but I just want to let you know beforehand that your attempts to correct my actions will be pointless."

The Companion groaned internally. "And why is that, M'lady?" he asked, his face transitioning into the same expression donning her own.

The young woman jutted her hip, flipping her chin into the air at the same time. "I don't know how much my father is paying you," she said, "but I'm going to tell you right now that I do things the way I want around here, regardless of who orders me around. You may be skilled in dealing with unwilling persons, but I can promise you that I will have you out of here by the end of the week."

"Is that so?" Vilkas replied. "I have to say, I'm looking forward to what you're planning to enact on me behind my back."

The blonde looked surprised, as if she had expected something else to come out of his mouth in reply. "Well…good!" she retaliated. "I've managed to run off every unwelcome guest we've had thus far, your case shall be no different!"

He didn't respond, just simply began walking toward her with the same stern expression in his features. Her eyes widened in worry and she began backing up, not entirely sure what the man was doing.

Once she had crossed over the doorway, he stopped, before bending over a bit so his face was directly in front of hers. By now her eyes were practically pried all the way back to her sockets, and her brows curved up in absolute confusion.

"So be it," Vilkas suddenly said with a sinister grin, before retreating back quickly and closing the doors in her face.

Adelia stared at the doors for a moment, processing what had happened, before shaking herself out of her sudden shock and staring down the barrier in front of her. "Well, fine!" she yelled at the man behind it, "I just hope you know what you're dealing with here!" smoothing out her dress roughly, she then turned with a harrumph and marched down the hallway to her own room.

* * *

**Well that's it for now. Just a little introduction to Adelia's family as well as Vilkas' initial introduction to them all. You know, I always imagined Adelia having a bit of a British accent, since she was raised in Cyrodiil and they all seem to have somewhat of one. **

**In case it helps, here are some pronunciations of the names, so you're reading them correctly, haha:**

**Rokvir – Roke-veer**

**Leonla – Lay-own-la**

**Adoran – Ay-door-in**

**Tristane – Tris-tane**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, chapter two is in progress at this moment, so expect an update soon! Remember to Follow/Fave/Review if you liked this update!  
**


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